Chapter 920: We are, well... uh... henchmen. (10)

Self-proclaimed Cloud Squad.

I approached the American fans who were calling themselves clouds.

Noise broke out everywhere.

Cheers.

Screams.

Jiho raised his hands, trying to calm them.

"Everyone, calm down. People might think this is our first time meeting~"

"It is my first time!"

At someone’s shout, Jiho nodded.

"Then you can keep going."

"Waaaaaaah!"

The massive cloud swarm rippled.

We were supposed to head straight into the red carpet venue, but there were so many fans that it felt wrong not to at least greet them.

[Cloud Squad Formation!]

I looked at a sign written in Korean and asked,

"So you’re clouds now?"

"We’re Souffle and clouds!"

"Why clouds? You’re all shining people."

At that, one fan shouted,

"Clouds are better than stars!"

"Why?"

"Stars just sit pretty in the sky, but clouds act! They can bring rain to beautiful land..."

The fan, who had been smiling softly, suddenly looked eerie.

"And they can summon storms for bad people."

"I... see."

I had no idea it carried such a terrifying meaning.

"When you put it like that... it does sound pretty cool. I’ll allow you to be our clouds."

I said playfully, looking around at the fans.

"Thank you so much for coming all the way here to support us. It must’ve been a long trip to Las Vegas."

The United States is huge.

One state alone can be bigger than Korea.

From LA to Las Vegas is like Seoul to Jeju.

From New York to Las Vegas is like Seoul to Phuket.

Meaning—most of them had to take a plane just to be here.

"Are you coming to the awards later?"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"I’ll watch on my phone!"

Naturally, most said no.

As we looked apologetic, one fan spoke in broken Korean.

"It’s okay! Thank you for existing!"

"Face 최고."

We burst out laughing at their effort.

Then the staff approached, signaling it was time to go.

As we waved goodbye, one fan shouted,

"Remember, we’re always behind you!"

"I will."

We thanked them for their support—

Then I called out to Mingi hyung.

"Mingi hyung."

"Yeah?"

"Just in case..."

I glanced back.

The fans who had come such a long way kept catching my eye.

I’d felt this way since last year’s awards.

"What is it?"

"After the performance... is there any place where we could do a small fan meeting?"

"For how long?"

"Just about 30 minutes. Just greeting them would be enough."

"I’ll check."

After saying it didn’t have to happen for sure—

We entered the red carpet.

Reporters rushed toward us.

"Our interview first!"

"NewBlack!"

Amid them, we spotted a familiar camera.

[PBS]

Korean reporters.

People who had come just for us.

"Hello!"

"Hello."

We exchanged warm greetings.

"Is it exclusive live coverage again this year?"

"Yes."

The interview began.

It felt like being national athletes.

Junghyun answered seriously,

"We heard we’re nominated in multiple categories, but we’re not sure about our chances. Awards go to those meant to receive them. We’ll just do our best."

Questions continued—

Then the final one.

"A message for viewers back home?"

"Ah... viewers."

It felt oddly formal.

Ri Hyuk fidgeted, blushing.

I spoke instead.

"It feels strange hearing ‘viewers.’"

"You can be comfortable."

"Okay. To all Souffle, fake Souffle, Songpyeon, and general viewers with a favorable impression—we’ve been invited to the Billboard Music Awards for the second year in a row!"

We clapped lightly.

"Last year felt incredibly lucky, and it seems that luck is continuing. We’ll treasure this opportunity and give ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) our best performance today!"

"Thank you for your support!"

After the interview—

The assistant director from PBS approached.

"And... NewBlack."

"Yes?"

"Good luck today."

The reporter clenched their fist.

The cameraman handed us something.

"I prepared this as a gift."

"Wow... thank you!"

"So you don’t ‘slip’ out of the awards."

It was sticky rice cake.

[Luck for Success]

A symbol of good fortune.

We bowed.

"Thank you!"

It felt warm.

Like spring in Korea.

Biju said,

"This feels like an exam hall."

"Yeah."

"Like when juniors gave us rice cakes and canned coffee before exams."

"Exactly."

Because of that—

We felt pressure.

Like representing the country.

Jiho said,

"I feel like we have to win something."

"Same."

Originally, we didn’t care much—

But now, we wanted at least one award.

We took a deep breath.

Then approached the next interviewers.

Eye contact.

‘Increase our chances.’

‘Confirmed.’

Awards were probably already decided.

But still—

"Next question! What do you want to say about the Billboard Awards?"

I answered solemnly,

"It’s an honor to attend such a prestigious awards show with history since the 1990s."

The members nodded.

"The greatest music awards—Billboard."

"We have high expectations for such a fair and prestigious event."

We shone our eyes—

Appealing hard.

Trying to become favorites of the organizers.

We felt like hotteok.

Pressed down by pressure.

"......."

"......."

In the waiting room, chewing rice cake gloomily—

Ri Hyuk spoke calmly.

"I thought about it."

"Yeah?"

"This is just overthinking."

"Ah... it’s that again!"

He nodded.

"Honestly, we’re not that important."

"True."

"People probably don’t care that much about whether we win."

Right.

We weren’t rulers of the music world.

Just cute celebrities.

Then Jiho showed his phone.

"...But I thought that too..."

The screen—

"1200 articles."

"What?"

"About us attending Billboard."

We looked closer.

"Jiho."

"Yes?"

"It’s 2100."

"......."

"How will this child survive..."

For a moment, we forgot our worries.

But only for a moment.

Will NewBlack win?

National idols aiming for awards

NewBlack takes over Billboard

“Take over” felt a bit much.

Then—

A news clip.

[National idol NewBlack attends Billboard Music Awards]

Interviews—

Students.

"I hope they win!"

Citizens.

"Good luck."

Grandpas playing baduk.

Market vendors.

So many expectations.

"......."

"......."

Because we had become “national idols,”

the attention was overwhelming.

Mingi hyung said,

"Don’t worry."

"Yeah!"

Staff encouraged us.

"It’s okay if you don’t win."

"You have money."

"Rookies don’t always win."

We nodded.

"Yes."

"Who did?"

"Us."

"......."

"In 2015. Song of the Year."

"......."

Right.

That was crazy.

We gathered.

"Mental check."

"Stop overthinking."

Ri Hyuk narrated,

"There are hundreds of billions of stars in our galaxy... and hundreds of billions of galaxies."

"I don’t understand."

"We are dust."

"!"

"Small, cute dust."

Just then—

The door burst open.

"I’m here!"

Hailey Blue.

Golden hair.

Beautiful like a fairy.

She tilted her head.

"What are you doing?"

"Mental training."

"What kind?"

"We’re dust!"

"...Tsk."

She looked at us pitifully.

"That’s not how you do it."

"Then?"

"I’m amazing. And I live in a world too stupid to recognize me."

She pointed at herself proudly.

"A beautiful genius misunderstood by the world."

"So that’s the concept."

"It’s not a concept. It’s reality."

We mentally took notes.

She asked,

"How is it? Better than yours?"

"No. Dust is better."

She looked disappointed.

We laughed and hugged her.

"Long time no see, Hailey."

We walked out together.

"Your hair looks great."

"Right?"

She had dyed it back after damage.

"So why were you doing that weird training?"

"Pressure."

"Worried you won’t win?"

"Yeah."

"You’ll win. Based on last year."

We brightened—

"Unless you cursed a judge or fought a reporter."

"Personal experience?"

"Yes."

We walked—

Greeting people.

"Yo!"

"Cold."

Cold Brown.

Greeting Hailey too—

Some tension.

Final candidates.

Then—

Ri Hyuk nudged us.

"Look."

Moonlight.

Seven members.

Stylish.

They approached.

Staff cheered them.

But—

We narrowed our eyes.

They had made subtle digs.

Patrick Wu—

"As minorities, we want to express messages others can’t."

Basically—

They were implying we didn’t understand.

Still—

They approached.

Colin Evans stepped forward—

Then froze.

"Gulp."

He looked... scared.

"Hello..."

Extremely polite.

We tilted our heads.

‘What?’

‘Nice guys?’

Moonlight.

A rookie sensation.

Hot 100 #2.

Massive success.

Treated like stars everywhere.

Their producer had said—

"You’ll surpass NewBlack."

They believed it.

‘Just a little more.’

They approached confidently—

Equals.

...Or so they thought.

But—

Behind NewBlack—

Hailey Blue.

Cold Brown.

Watching them.

‘Behave.’

‘My precious Grammy machine...’

Like predators.

"Uh..."

And so—

"Hello..."

The seven-member group instinctively became polite.